


Kokkuri-san, Kokkuri-san

by Fweeble



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Ensemble Cast, F/F, F/M, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 17:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4634142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fweeble/pseuds/Fweeble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaneki Ken, 26, newly divorced, searching for a cat.</p><p>Nagachika Hideyoshi, 22, volunteers at a pet foster home. </p><p>Kokkuri, "Coco", 2, American Shorthair, lives up to his name. </p><p>In which circumstance and chance aren't very powerful matchmaking forces when there is  a cat named after cupid as your wingman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kokkuri-san, Kokkuri-san

**Author's Note:**

> For an anon who requested a cat fic on my tumbles. This turned out longer than I expected so I decided to cut it up into parts. c:
> 
> Special thanks to my dearest waifu, [babybirdblues](http://tmblr.co/mvGz8Hsqu9pxbhHFW84yj4g), for letting me assault her with endless questions about adopting cats from shelters and foster homes. <3

It goes like this:  
  
Kaneki is twenty six, just shy of twenty seven, and divorced.   
  
Again.  
  
He mourns the end of his marriage in a pub, drowning himself in lovely amber liquid as his closest confidant nurses her drink, chin propped on one hand.   
  
“I can’t believe I’ve been divorced twice –I’m not even thirty,” he moans bitterly. “And the apartment feels so empty. I feel like a stranger in my own home.” He buries his face in his arms, the table the dastardly villain that keeps him from folding forward into the fetal position. _Asshole_.  
  
“Uh huh,” Touka says, eyebrow cocking. “You do realize that  _I_  am your newly  _ex_ -wife, yes? You don’t see anything odd with coming to me for comfort about our divorce?”  
  
Kaneki turns wet eyes to Touka and his face crumples. “But I don’t have anyone else to talk to about this.”   
  
And that’s just his life, isn’t it?   
  
His first wife was impossibly lovely, graceful and gentle –until the police connected a half dozen murders to them and she absconded, leaving him to meekly protest his innocence in the confusion. He was twenty, still in university, maybe too innocent and naive, and had quickly fallen for the first beautiful woman to show interest.  
  
He met Touka at his new job, after his old boss had fired him during the intense police scrutiny. She had been sharp-tongued, prickly, and Kaneki fell in love with her unbowed back, the determined jut of her chin, the heat of her passion. They took things slow, he had learned his lesson, Kaneki had thought, and had married after Touka had graduated university.  
  
But his life is a farce, a comedy for the gods, and the person who had become his closest and dearest over the years wasn’t his. Never was.  
  
Touka indulges him for another hour before checking her watch. “I have to go, Ken. Yoriko is making the food for our ceremony and she wants me to go over the menu with her tonight.” She looks at him, and maybe he looks pitiful enough, like a beached whale under the summer sun, and she hesitates. “Should I call a cab for you?”  
  
For a moment, indignation, white-hot and uncontrollable fills him –how dare she pity him? She’s the reason why he’s like this. “No,” he seethes for the second his fury lasts before it dissipates entirely and all he is left with is  _him._  A sad, lonely man with an apartment that feels too big for him and a potted plant as company. “What am I going to do?” he whispers, looking towards her for answers, because she always had them.  
  
Touka had been the best of him.  
  
She pats her cheek sadly and says, “That’s for you to decide. Take your time, you’ll find your way. You know I will support you, always.” She hugs him, warm and familiar. “Our vows weren’t complete lies, you know. I  _am_  here for you.”  
  
“I know,” and he does, he does know. Because while she may not love him the way she did Yoriko, she did love him, fierce and burning, a love that was unconditional and eternal. He lost her as a wife, as the love of his life, but he had never lost  _her_. “I know, Touka.”  
  
“As for the loneliness… Perhaps a pet? A cat, maybe? Or a fish. Something low-maintenance.”  
  
–  
  
It takes two missed stops on the subway and three wrong turns before he finds the animal shelter Yoriko had helpfully suggested.  
  
Kaneki waffles on the sidewalk.   
  
He can barely handle keeping Misaki alive, sometimes he comes home after a particularly trying day at work and forgets to water her. He had rushed her to Ryouko’s nursery a few times in a blind panic after a few of those days had lead to her leaves yellowing and drooping.   
  
The long and short of it is that he’s a terrible plant papa and if he can’t be an exemplary plant parent how can he contemplate adopting a cat?  
  
Wrapped up in his thoughts, he fails to notice the other man until he clears his throat.  
  
“Can I help you?” the man asks, bright and welcoming. Kaneki is sure that, behind that guileless smile, all the man wants is for Kaneki far, far away. A strange man staring off into space well after dark is usually trouble at the best of times, a lunatic out to murder cute and fluffy animals at the worst of times.  
  
“Uh…” Kaneki manages to supply helpfully, completely dissuading the man of any misconceptions he may have about Kaneki. “I… uh… cat…?” He resorts to miming, because that is the logical, adult thing to do when one is caught with their metaphorical pants down and needs to explain that, no, he is not a psychotic cat killer out for an easy score and he’s really just lonely and his ex-wife suggested he adopt a cat and since she’s brilliant and he’s a mess when he’s at his best, he figures he should consider those words of wisdom.  
  
The man shrugs sheepishly, “If you’re looking to adopt, I have to apologize, we’ve already closed for the day?” He gestures at the dark windows and Kaneki winces. How long had he been loitering outside the shelter? He can imagine the pointed stares as the sky got darker and darker and he continued to lead himself through endless circles.   
  
“I… oh. Sorry for coming so late.”  
  
“It’s okay,” the man assures. “We try to stay open late for the white collar people, y’know? They have to stay at work so late sometimes and sometimes Sundays are filled with other responsibilities, but we still have to close sometime.” He grins and holds out his hand, “Anyways, I’m off topic. I’m Nagachika Hideyoshi and if you drop by after seven most evenings, I’ll be here. Feel free to come in next time and we can discuss any worries you may have about owning your first cat.”  
  
Kaneki flounders. “I… thank you.”  
  
–  
  
  
“How did you know this would be my first time? I mean, how did you know I’ve never had a cat before?” he asks when he finally musters up the courage to return a little over two weeks later.   
  
It probably isn’t the best lead off for a conversation ever, but it’s an improvement since their first meeting, so Kaneki will take that as a win and run with it.   
  
The blond looks up from where he is crouched, playing with two puppies.   
  
“Oh, hello. I was wondering if we’d see you again.” Nagachika brushes off his hands on his jeans as he stands up. The puppies are petulant, disappointed that attention has been taken from them and bestowed upon another, unworthy as he is. Nagachika laughs after the third whine and picks up both wriggling balls of fur and winks. “Sorry, give me a sec. These bugga-boos haven’t learned proper etiquette yet, have you?”  
  
He wanders to the far end of the room, towards a play pen, and places the puppies in it. Kaneki is left standing awkwardly in the front, feeling entirely uncomfortable.   
  
“Another one, huh?”  
  
Kaneki starts at the new voice. “I, uh. Another what?”  
  
The woman snickers. “You’re smitten.”  
  
“No?” He is less confused than he sounds, honestly. “Wait, what? Are you implying I’ve already found the pet I want to take home with me?” He furrows his brows. “Because I haven’t?”  
  
She titters. “There, there. It’s okay, it’s normal.”  
  
“What’s normal?” he asks again. Surely adopting shouldn’t be this… perplexing?   
  
There has to be some grand mastermind, some asshole of a scriptwriter somewhere, laughing maniacally as they they write every horrific moment of his life. Including this very moment.   
  
“Kimi, stop teasing him,” Nagachika says, stepping in like some kind of glorious knight in shining white armor, all gallantry and perfectly straight teeth. “Don’t mind her, uh…” He rubs the back of his head and it’s unfair how, even sheepish, the man is obviously comfortable in his skin when Kaneki perpetually feels like a stranger borrowing his own. Kaneki is still contemplating this incredible unfairness when he finally realizes that the other man is asking for his name.  
  
“Oh, uh, that’s really rude of me, sorry. I hadn’t realized –What I mean to say is, I’m Kaneki Ken.” He shakes Nagachika’s hand and worries about whether or not it’s a good, solid one. The chief editor often criticises it –the handshake of a weak man will not convince writers that he is a capable editor or that their work is in good hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Again.”  
  
“Nice to meet you, Kaneki-san.” Nagachika smiles and maybe Kaneki hasn’t been sleeping enough because he swears the immediate area brightens just the slightest. “If you’d fill this out, we could start picking out a pet for you.”   
  
Kaneki is cheerfully lead to the far side of the room where a table waits patiently for them.   
  
“Feel free to ask any questions while you fill out the paperwork.”  
  
He writes down his name, age, address, and is starting on his occupation when the silence starts to eat at him. “So… The shelter isn’t exactly what I had been expecting.” Kaneki gestures with his pen at the wide open space, the comfortable furniture. “The building is also surrounded by apartments.”  
  
“Well, to be entirely accurate, we aren’t a shelter. This is a foster home. We’re partnered with the pet clinic down the street,” Nagachika motions at the woman, Kimi, and smiles, soft and adoring. “Kimi is the one who started all this. Her great grandpa owned all the property on this street and it became hers when he passed. She uses the rent she collects to keep this place going.” He shrugs, embarrassed grin flitting across his face when he says, “And I guess you can call her my benefactor. This place was converted so that it would be pet friendly but she left the third floor untouched. She rents it out to me cheap.”  
  
“So it’s like an apartment for employees?”  
  
Nagachika hums. “To be accurate, I’m not an employee. I volunteer when I’m free,” he says carefully. “Although I also keep an eye on everything at night.”  
  
“Oh?” Kaneki glances up from the paperwork, curious. Imagining the foster home without Nagachika in it already seems foreign to him. The blond seems to slot himself so seamlessly into the foster home, an essential cog in the clockwork of it all. If nothing else, the animals seem to adore him. “What do you do, then?”  
  
“Oh, odds and ends,” the other man deflects. “Didn’t get the chance to finish high school so there’s not much work for someone like me out there.”  
  
He is in the process of forming an apology when Nagachika just shakes his head, ever-present smile small and comforting. “Looks like you’re done with the boring paperwork portion, Kaneki-san. Please give me a moment.” The blond makes a beeline for the back room, presumably to file the paperwork. When he emerges, still clutching papers in his hand, he bypasses the the playpen and instead picks up a cat lounging contentedly on a couch.   
  
“This,” he says cheerfully after stopping by the table, “is Kokkuri, also known as Coco. He’s a two year old American Shorthair.” Coco bumps Nagachika’s hand and the man laughs, fondly scratching the cat under his chin. “Coco has a mild temper and his breed is known to be independent and low maintenance, which would be best considering how late your work hours can get. His selling point, however,” Nagachika continues, depositing Coco onto Kaneki’s lap, “is that he is very friendly.”  
  
Coco sits patiently as Kaneki tries to wrangle low-grade panic into heel.   
  
“There’s no need to be so nervous,” Nagachika assures. “Coco doesn’t bite.”  
  
Slowly, he pets the cat, marvels at the velvet softness of Coco’s ears. Coco, for his part, languidly stretches out, sprawled across Kaneki’s bony legs, eyes sliding shut.   
  
Kaneki looks up at Nagachika, wondering if he has passed some sort of secret test of character. Coco approves of him. Does this mean he takes Coco home with him?  
  
“Great, looks like things’ll work out. Have you prepared for a cat yet, Kaneki-san?” Kaneki freezes, suddenly aware how utterly unprepared he is. Cats aren’t orchids. He can’t just water Coco once a day and keep him in the sunlight. He’s convinced his cat-adopting privilege is about to be revoked when the blond just laughs and says, “Don’t worry, it just means you can’t take Coco home with you today. Here’s a list of things you’ll need to raise a cat, so make sure to get everything on it. I would also recommend getting the best cat litter you can find –the litter box is definitely a thing to be feared. Anything that can make the task of cleaning it out easier is a blessing. Trust me.” Nagachika hands Kaneki the other piece of paper. “These are a list of things not to feed Coco. There’s a surprising number of things that aren’t great for cats.”  
  
“O-oh. Okay.” Kaneki shifts uncomfortably. “Is there anything else?”  
  
Nagachika rubs the back of his neck. “Well, there’s the 19,000 yen charge for the shots and other vet care.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“We don’t need it now, but if you could bring it when you pick up Coco…”  
  
“I understand, Nagachika-san,” Kaneki assures. He has to check in on Utsumi tomorrow to make sure her manuscript is on track.  “I might be a bit indisposed for the rest of the week but I should be able to set up the apartment for Coco by Sunday? I could come pick him up then?”  
  
“Sounds like a plan. Here, this is my number,” Nagachika says, plucking a pen from the cup on the table and writing under the list of poisonous food for cats. “Sometimes they have trouble adjusting, so call me if Coco has any trouble, or if you have any concerns, really. Actually, it’d be better if you mailed me instead. I can’t always pick up if I’m at work.” He adds an email address under the number. “Don’t worry about calling me about things like which brand name pet food is better. I know it can all be overwhelming.”  
  
–  
  
Kaneki tapes the list of poisonous food on the refrigerator and slips the list of cat essentials into his suitcase when he gets home. He considers the scrawled numbers and letters and tells himself he needs to buy proper refrigerator magnets while shopping for supplies Saturday.   
  
Carefully, he neatly labels the contact information.  
  
_Nagachika Hideyoshi_  
_Foster Home Volunteer_  
  
He writes  _“Call for help”_  before hastily crossing it out.  
  
No matter what Nagachika says, he shouldn’t bother the other man.   
  
Kaneki Ken is an adult.   
  
He can shop for a cat and set up his home without guidance.   
  
He is an adult.


End file.
